


If You Play with Fire

by Frostdream (Vivacious)



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drama, Kevin is Neil's son, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-06 19:56:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivacious/pseuds/Frostdream
Summary: In another universe Neil's escape attempt with his mother did not work out and he never got to play with the Foxes. When he finally arrives to Palmetto it is with his son, Kevin, 10 years later than he did in canon. There he encounters a sullen neighbor, one Andrew Minyard, who seems just as haunted by his past as they are. One deal between them might just change everything, but what is it again that people say about playing with fire?





	1. Begin Again

**Author's Note:**

> So I read the books a while ago and somehow couldn't get rid of this idea, and now here we are. This is my first work in the fandom, so I'm still experimenting with the characters. So far it's been fun. I'd love to hear it if you enjoy this fic. 
> 
> It might also be a good thing to know that I am not American and English isn't my first language, so please be gentle with me. More tags will be added as time goes on. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, they belong solely to Nora Sakavic.

“Ah, hello, you must be Mr.—“

“Neil Josten, we spoke on the phone last week,” he says. “And this is my son, Kevin. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs.,” Kevin echoes politely.

It is a hassle to get Kevin enrolled to yet another new school. It’s the fifth one in the past two years. Kevin doesn’t like it any more than Neil does. They had just started to feel safe after eight months of peace and quiet, and Kevin had finally gotten some friends in the neighborhood, but inevitably the moment had come when Neil had to press his foot on the gas pedal in the middle of the night and erase all traces of their comfortable existence.

Kevin puts on a charming smile for the teacher anyway. Neil is beyond grateful that the boy has got better acting skills than he does.

Kevin’s new homeroom teacher is a bubbly woman in her thirties with chestnut brown hair and blonde highlights. She’s wearing a cardigan with a sunflower pattern and her nails are painted pastel pink. _Maisie Mulligan,_ she introduces herself with a smile accompanied by dimples. Neil cannot help but to loathe her on sight.

“So the timing is a bit unconventional, as it is already the fourth week of the semester, but I’m sure little Kevin will fit right in,” Maisie says. There’s something slightly amusing about her calling Kevin little. He is only ten, but already almost a head taller than most of his peers. Neil is sure Kevin will grow past him in a few years’ time.

“Where did you say you moved from?”

“Millport,” Neil answers. “Arizona.”

“Have you settled in fine?”  
“Yeah, still got some unpacking to do, but that’ll be easier when Kevin isn’t around,” Neil says.

“The kids always have so much energy, don’t they? Now, if you could fill in these forms for me, please.”

Neil starts to go through the paperwork while Maisie keeps chattering to Kevin, who keeps his answers short and sweet.

“Will we be meeting Kevin’s mother soon?” the teacher enquires. Neil offers her a tense smile.

“I’m afraid she is no longer with us,” he says. It is not, technically, a lie.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Maisie croons. “Was it recent?”

“You could say it was one of the reasons we moved,” Neil gives the non-answer. “A fresh start for both of us.”

“Of course, of course. We have excellent counselling services here, Mr. Josten, I am sure that your son would benefit from them, should the need arise.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer, but Kevin has already got all the support he needs,” Neil rushes to say. He can only imagine how a meeting like that would go down. _Hi, I’m Kevin, I’m ten and I like exy. My surname isn’t really Josten_ , _oh, and once I saw my grandpa cutting a man into pieces with a knife and an axe._

More realistically Neil knows that Kevin has no problem with keeping quiet about their business. He is getting to be almost as good at keeping secrets as Neil himself is. Neil knows it should not make him proud, but a sick little part of him feels like it’s a sign that he has done something right. At least he has taught Kevin the most important lesson he had learned from his own mother: _Don’t trust anyone. Keep running_. _Do anything to survive_.

“That’s good. I will still offer you her card, just in case you change your mind,” Maisie chirps and collects back the forms from Neil. “Now, the first lesson is just about to begin, I think we should go and introduce Kevin to his class. If you could just sign your name here Mr. Josten, and then we’ll be on our way. Please don’t hesitate to contact me about anything. I’m here to help.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Neil says and gets his gray coat back on.

“Dad,” Kevin mumbles at last, grabbing Neil’s sleeve. His green eyes are a just bit too wide and he looks like he might start trembling. Neil presses his hand on his shoulder and squeezes softly. It never gets easier to let him out of his sight. First days are always the worst.

“Have a nice day, Kev. I’ll pick you up after school. Remember what we talked about in the car, yeah?”

_If you recognize anyone, call me. If someone asks you where you live, say you don’t remember the address yet. Remember, our last name is Josten now. If anything feels suspicious, you know what to do._

“Yeah. See you later.”

“ _Bonne chance_ ,” Neil whispers as he gently moves back, just to see a glimpse of a real smile on Kevin’s face. It quickly morphs into a dazzling, politician like grin as Maisie starts herding Kevin towards the classroom.

 

*

Neil drives home with his fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel and his thoughts miles away from the road in front of him. Kevin will be fine. They both are just fine. If he repeats it enough times it will come true.

In all honesty there isn’t a lot of unpacking to do. Before they had left Millport Neil had only packed the necessities. Those necessities might have included Kevin’s practice exy racket and his ( _their_ ) collection of sports magazines and exy trading cards. But everyone that has kids knows you can only travel so light with them. Neil is not like his mother. He wants Kevin to grow up with something more than the scent of burning skin, a sack full of papers and a million warnings recorded inside his cells. Still, they don’t own anything that cannot fit into the old Toyota Neil drives.

Neil begins with Kevin’s clothes, getting them folded into the wardrobe. They should go shopping for more sometime soon. Kevin had shot up like a weed during the last three months and now most of his pants seemed to be showing his ankles. Neil doesn’t need some well-meaning parent offering their comments on what his child is wearing. It had happened before and thanks to his mouth, things had not ended amicably. The soccer mom had glared at him for rest of their stay in the city. But Neil is capable of learning from his mistakes and so they’ll go shopping before a repeat performance. Maybe this weekend.

Once he finishes putting their stuff aside Neil decides to start cooking. He makes spaghetti Bolognese and the sauce is only mildly over salted. He’s getting better. Kevin should be proud.

Neil puts the food under a folio and drives back to the school with over half an hour to waste. He turns the radio on and leans back. The other parents and the school busses take longer to arrive. It’s no surprise. He does not speak with anyone, though he does get some curious glances. He is rather young to be waiting among the other parents, he supposes. That, and also fresh blood, which the gossiping sharks can no doubt smell well enough. When Kevin finally steps out of the gates Neil is beyond ready to get back to their little flat. 

“Alright, Kevin? Did the day go OK?”   

“They are all idiots,” comes Kevin’s quick-fire judgement. The smile on his face drops as soon as he climbs into the front seat.

“Oh?”

“We had history today. They don’t even know the names of the presidents. Like it’s hard.”

So after the first day the kids have already failed at one of the two things Kevin actually likes. That is history. Neil hopes at least one of the new classmates follows exy. Otherwise the weeks ahead are going to be _fun._  

“They can’t all be geniuses at age ten. Give them a chance to redeem themselves, yeah?”

Kevin just sniffs indignantly. For a while they drive in silence, but Neil can’t quite keep his paranoia under the wraps.

“Nothing seemed suspicious today, right? No weird teachers or questions?”

Kevin shakes his head. “Nah. Well maybe if—“

“If what?”

“If you count some guys asking if I had a girlfriend in Arizona,” Kevin says. Neil feels his lips twitch slightly with relief.

“What did you say?”

“I told them that I don’t have time for one. What are we eating today, dad? The cafeteria lunch was disgusting.”

*

Neil leans over the balcony rail. His shirt sticks to his skin and his lungs heave with the remnants of a dream. He doesn’t really remember what it was about. There’s just a general impression of terror, a heavy feeling in his gut. Perhaps knives glinting if he thinks about it. Neil would rather not. The night air is chilling and just a bit less suffocating than the closed walls in his bedroom. He wishes he could go for a run. There’s an old echo shouting in his bones, an electric current in his cells that makes his fingers twitch. _Move, run, run_. He wishes… but inside Kevin is still sleeping soundly. And Neil may not be a good man or a stellar parent, but at least he knows not to leave a nightmare-prone ten-year-old to wake up alone in an empty apartment. He will go for a run in the morning after dropping Kevin off to the school. He can last until that time, as long as he’s not trapped inside for the whole night. As long as Kevin is still there to keep his feet in place. His center in the fucked up map of his mind. 

“The fuck are you?” comes a rough voice from his left side. Neil forces himself not to startle as he turns his head around.

There’s a man standing in the balcony of the next-door apartment. Probably around the same age as Neil himself, in his late twenties. He is blond, short and dressed all in black, so that he almost blends into the shadows. Neil doesn’t remember hearing a door open. Had the man been there for the entire time?

“Neil Josten,” he offers slowly. “Just moved in.”  
The man stares at him in calculating silence. His expression seems apathetic, but the sharp gaze betrays the interest behind it.

 _Run,_ a voice whispers in the back of Neil’s head. He feels his hands start to sweat. Too late he realizes he isn’t wearing his contact lenses. He had taken them off before going to sleep and hadn’t even bothered searching for them before wrenching the door open. Neil shortly entertains the thought of it being too dark for the man to see the real color of his eyes, but seeing that they are facing a streetlight it’s no more than an idle wish. Perhaps, if he is lucky, the stranger will not remember it the next time they meet. Green isn’t that different from blue. He might just think the contacts a passing fancy, a fashion statement. It’s fine. They don’t have to leave because of this. Not because of his stupid eyes. It will be fine.

“Andrew Minyard,” the man says after a while. Either he doesn’t notice Neil’s panic or he just does not care. Whatever it is, Neil feels grateful.

No _nice-to-meet-you_ follows. Instead Andrew lights a cigarette. He blows the smoke straight towards Neil, who isn’t sure what to make of it. Is it a challenge? An attempt at getting some privacy?

Neil breathes in. The smoke smells bitter and brings to mind all the reasons they had had for leaving Millport. It’s been a while since he’s had the chance to do this. Got to set an example after all and what not. Though Neil thinks Kevin would probably tell him off for ruining his lungs instead of getting any bad influences from him. The boy actually likes his vegetables and nags at him if Neil doesn’t buy them vitamins for the breakfast table. Neil is no expert, but he’s fairly certain that’s not normal behavior for ten-year-olds. Then again, Kevin has always been extraordinary.

After seeing his reaction Andrew leans a bit closer and wordlessly offers the cigarettes to him. Against all instinct Neil accepts. He watches as Andrew holds his lighter over the balcony railing. The fire creates ominous shadows on his pale skin. Neil takes one, slow drag out of the cigarette to get it going. Then he lets it burn under his nose. The acrid smoke will stick to his shirt for ages.

“Are you just going to waste that?” Andrew asks.

Neil raises his eyebrow. “What’s it to you?”

Andrew shrugs. “Nothing.”

“And I’m not wasting it,” Neil says. “It’s burning, isn’t it? Last I checked that’s what cigarettes are meant to do.”

He keeps waiting for another question or comment, but it doesn’t come. Andrew seems keen on just ignoring Neil in favor of staring at the empty streets. In the end Neil shakes the last of the ashes over the railing and mutters an awkward goodnight before heading back in. He has already been to check that Kevin is still sleeping and returned to his own bed for another couple of hours of fitful sleep before he realizes that he had forgotten the need to run for the few minutes they had been smoking. Neil puts the blame on lack of sleep. It’s not really worth thinking about. No doubt the encounter won’t be repeating itself all that soon anyway. 


	2. Sweet and Sour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is this chocolate?” Kevin asks with disgust evident in his voice. 
> 
> a.k.a. Kevin is the most healthy ten-year-old in existence and Neil is a good dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I'd like to say thanks for all the kind feedback so far, it's made me really happy. I'm a bit unsure about how well this chapter actually turned out, but I thought that I'll post it now anyway instead of keeping you waiting. I'd love to hear what you think. Also, it gets worse before it gets better...

Neil is usually up by 7 a.m. no matter what. Old habits stick hard, especially after they have been beaten into you. Kevin, on the other hand, is a nightmare to wake up in the mornings. Today it takes Neil basically carrying him, blankets and all, to the kitchen before Kevin even bothers opening his eyes.

“Do you want toast or cereals for breakfast?” Neil asks. No answer, not that he really had been expecting to get one. “Cereals it is,” he mutters.

Kevin yawns. His dark hair is mussed-up and his fingers clutch at the blanket like a lifeline. Neil pours the cereals into a bowl and runs his fingers through his own hair as he opens the fridge for milk. He needs to check his roots soon. Maybe Kevin can help him. After the previous night’s blunder with the contact lenses Neil can’t risk making any more obvious mistakes.

“Is this _chocolate_?” Kevin asks with disgust evident in his voice. Looks like he’d finally woken up from his morning stupor then.

“I don't know, is it?” Neil asks, one hand still tugging at his dark brown hair.

“ _Dad_.”

“Kevin,” he answers.

“You bought us cereal with chocolate chips in it. Do you _know_ how much sugar this stuff contains? I’ve told you before, athletes can’t eat this crap! I won’t make it to the court if I do.”

“Language, Kev,” Neil mutters. “I didn’t really read the labels when I bought the package. I think it was on sale. Can’t you just eat that, please? I’m sure it’s not that bad. One time won’t kill your hopes and dreams.”

Kevin glares at him. “No.”

“I’m eating too,” Neil tries. It used to work, once upon a time. When Kevin was three.

“You shouldn’t,” comes the swift answer. “It’s not like it’s any healthier to you.”

This argument could probably go on for quite a while. The reality is though that they only have fifteen minutes before they have to leave if Kevin wants to get to school in time. Luckily enough, Neil is not above bribery. Kevin knows it too. There have been way too many occurrences of _I’ll behave if you let me stay up to watch the Trojans game tonight_ in the past _._

“I’ll get you a green smoothie later, if you eat that,” Neil says. “We’ll go grocery shopping together after school.”

Kevin wrinkles his brow slightly, but seems to deem the bribe worthy enough. The spoon goes into his mouth. Neil counts it as a small victory.  

*

Neil had been wrong. The shopping trip does not feel like a victory in the afternoon. It’s more like a punishment. He should’ve just made Kevin a toast in the morning and been done with it. But he hadn’t been smart enough and now he’s stuck in the middle of a chaos that consists of people fighting about the last croissant in the bakery section and screaming children pulling stuff down from the shelves. At least Kevin looks happy as he fills their cart with fruits. There are bananas, oranges and… something pink and spikey that looks like it might have come from Mars. Neil has never claimed to be a biologist.  

They have picked up almost everything they need, when Kevin stops abruptly in the middle of the aisle.

“Dad, I forgot something I wanted, wait here, I’m just going back to get—“

“Are you sure?” Neil asks. _Will you be okay alone,_ the silent question lingers in the air.

“I’ll be quick,” Kevin says and so Neil lets him go. He amuses himself by counting down the minutes until they’ll be safely back in the car. Then, suddenly, his eyes meet a familiar figure.  

Andrew Minyard is standing in the sweet aisle considering different chocolate bars. He doesn’t seem quite as intimating under the fluorescent lights of the supermarket as he had in the shadows of the balcony, but there’s still something about him that’s enough to unsettle Neil. Something about his straight back, bored face and black sleeves that makes Neil think _danger_ , _turn away now._

“What are you looking at?” Kevin asks as he appears with a box of raisins in tow.

“Nothing,” Neil says reflexively. “Well, that man over there—“

He barely manages to start his sentence before said man turns around and notices him. Andrew takes a step closer, his eyes fixed on Kevin, who is quick to hide behind Neil’s back. Andrew takes the reaction in slowly before his scrutinizing gaze flickers up to meet Neil’s.

“That kid yours, Josten?”

Neil nods. “Yeah. This is Kevin. Say hi to our neighbor, Kev.”

Kevin moves forward, but keeps stuck to his side. He curls his fingers around the hem of Neil’s jacket. Sometimes Neil wonders whether Kevin might be braver if he had been raised by someone else.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Andrew echoes. “I’m Andrew.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin adds politely.

Andrew snorts. “Right. You don’t have to pretend. I hate lying.”

Kevin’s fingers squeeze his jacket just a bit tighter and Neil decides to lead the conversation away from him.

“So, you’re shopping. Looking for anything special?” It’s not the best choice of topic, but it’ll have to do.

Andrew gifts him with a disinterested look. “I also hate small talk,” he says. His eyes are hazel, Neil notes.

“Is there anything you don’t hate?” he questions.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Maybe Neil would. It might help him to solve the mystery around the man and tell Neil how high on their guard they should be in any future encounters.

Kevin breaks his reverie with a tug at his sleeve. “Can we go now?”

“Yeah,” Neil says. “Was there anything else we need? I’m not coming back for at least two days.”

“Do you like candies, kid?” Andrew interrupts.

It’s unexpected and it causes Neil and Kevin to exchange a cautious look. Then Kevin’s small face crunches up. _Here we go_ , Neil thinks with a hint of amusement.

“Not really,” Kevin proclaims, and Andrew’s stares at him incredulously.

“Why not?”

“Candies are bad for you,” Kevin explains with extreme seriousness. “They’re just pure sugar.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t like them,” Andrew points out.

“Well, I guess,” Kevin says. “But they are too sweet anyway. I don’t like them.”

“You’re one weird brat,” Andrew says.

“Am not!”

“Wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“ _You’re_ the weird one. I bet you’re so short because you eat too much sugar,” Kevin says, appearing proud of his conclusion. Andrew pointedly stretches his hand and grabs the nearest bag of candies to his shopping basket in retaliation. It already contains two tubs of ice cream.

Neil is… not quite certain that this is actually happening to him. He isn't really looking from the sidelines as his son and his neighbor, who by all accords is a full-grown man, are about to start a fight in the middle of a supermarket. Because of candies. He isn't, right? An old lady passes them by with a curious look. _Great_ , Neil thinks. Someone is probably going to whip out their smartphone soon and then their faces will be on some YouTube video that goes viral and Neil will have to dye his hair green and drive them all the way to Mexico just to get them far enough away from this mess.

“I think we need to get some orange juice,” Neil says. Time to get out before things escalate any further.

“But we already ha—“

“Let’s go, Kevin.”

He doesn’t bother saying goodbye before dragging Kevin towards the other end of the store. He can feel Andrew’s gaze on his back, slightly amused and heavy like a memory.

*

Later that night Neil finds himself at the balcony again. The apartment doesn’t feel quite like home after such a short time. During the small hours the unfamiliar walls remind him more of a cage than a shelter. So balcony it is, and he isn’t alone this time either. Minyard is already standing there surrounded by a cloud of smoke. It gathers like a halo around his golden hair. Neil wonders if the man ever sleeps. He also contemplates whether he should mention the incident at the candy aisle or just hope that it will be forgotten. In the end Andrew takes care of it for him.  

“So, you have a brat,” Minyard says in place of a greeting.

“So?”

“A bit young to have a kid that age, aren’t you?”

“I don’t see how it’s of any concern to you,” Neil answers, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Touchy, touchy,” Andrew sing-songs. “Where’s the mother?”

“It’s just us,” Neil says. It’s the easiest answer he’s got.  

“She didn’t feel like dealing with you and left,” Andrew guesses.

Neil gives a vague shrug of his shoulders. “We’re fine alone. We’re pretty close,” he says. Hopefully it will satisfy whatever curiosity Andrew has towards them and direct the conversation somewhere else. Instead, Neil’s words seem to do something quite the opposite. At the word _close_ Andrew’s shoulders tense. It’s a weird reaction, but it doesn’t really matter what Andrew thinks. Until suddenly, with his next sentence, it does.

”So he was an accident then,” Andrew remarks after a pause, “a mistake. And now you’re trying to make the best of your ruined little life by playing happy families.”

Neil becomes very, very still as icy rage freezes his veins. It numbs his fingers and turns his hands into hard fists.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses. “Never fucking say that about him again.”

Something like surprise crosses Andrew’s face. Neil ignores it in favor of his anger. He has made many mistakes in his life. Kevin is not one of those. Kevin is the only glimpse of color in his monochrome world. For years the only two things Neil had been able to keep had been his love for exy and Kevin. Kevin is family, and no one gets to speak like that about Neil’s family. Not even Andrew fucking Minyard.

Neil’s temper flares red like his natural hair, like flames licking a corpse in a burning car. He smiles. It’s slow and devoid of any joy, a Wesninski smile.

“Why the sudden interest in my family life, Minyard? Let me guess, mommy never loved you enough, daddy didn’t keep in touch, and now you’re trying to live vicariously through me to escape your traumas.”

“Having a temper tantrum now, Josten? If I wanted to live through someone, it wouldn’t be through an unstable toddler,” Andrew says.

“I guess you’re already more than familiar with that point of view,” Neil agrees amicably.

Andrew seems to study his face for a second. What he finds there, Neil doesn’t know. When he speaks again however, he seems to have calmed down. His expression is once again full of apathy.

“You should go back to sleep, like a good boy,” Andrew drawls. “Before I punch you. Wouldn’t want to make the kid worry.”

“As if I’m scared of you,” Neil mutters, but decides to go in. The air has gone sour anyway.


	3. A Cloudy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again. This chapter is not especially long or fast-paced, but I still felt it necessary to include so bear with me, please. I promise more action (and Andrew) next chapter. Also, thanks again for all the nice comments you've left for this fic <3

A week passes by without Neil setting a foot on the balcony. It’s not that he is afraid of Minyard or anything, he just doesn’t feel like it. He has been busy searching for a job. It’s one of the parts he hates the most about moving towns. Getting a suitable job with a false identity isn’t a piece of cake. There are always too many questions about his past and experience during the applying process. A fake degree costs money and is not usually worth it anyway.

This time it seems like he might have a chance with a nearby hardware store. At the very least there’s going to be an interview in a couple of days’ time. Neil hopes that it will work out. Not because he is especially interested in the position, but because most of the vacancies around here seem to automatically go to the students of Palmetto State University.

Neil still has a comfortable amount of savings thanks to the eight months spent working a steady job in Millport and the remaining finances that his mother had left lying around the country years ago. The later ones he is not very keen to touch. Neil considers the coordinates in his file an insurance and they are best left alone as long as they can survive without. 

The job hunt aside, at the moment there are some more pressing problems he has to handle. Rather, a problem. Rather, a person.

Kevin has been getting more and more sullen as the days go by. It’s not easy to be the new kid in school and Kevin has never been one to make friends in a day. The frustration brews in his darkening gaze. It’s as if black cartoon thunderclouds are slowly gathering around Kevin’s shoulders. A downpour can be expected to happen at any given moment.

Today is the worst day they’ve had in Palmetto so far. They are sitting in the car in the school’s parking lot and have been for the past twenty minutes. During that time neither one of them has said a word. Every last student has already disappeared inside the building to start the day, all except Kevin that is.

“Your class started ten minutes ago,” Neil says. “Your teacher will be suspicious once you don't turn up.”

“I don’t care,” Kevin mutters. “It doesn’t matter.”

It does, of course. Kevin cares too much. He is so unlike Neil, who had mostly been eager to get to the school in order to escape the blood-spattered walls of his childhood house. Usually it's a good thing, but now it's causing Neil to worry.

“I won’t go,” Kevin says. His shoulders are hunched up to his ears and he won’t meet Neil’s eyes. "I don't want to."

Neil sighs. He grabs his phone from his pocket and finds the correct contact.

“Morning. This is Neil Josten. My son Kevin seems to have caught a rather violent stomach bug so I’m afraid he won’t be coming to school today… Uhhuh. Kevin Josten. Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he’ll catch up quickly once he’s better.”

Kevin decides to finally spare him a wary look. _What are you doing?_

Neil rolls his eyes. _What do you think?_

“Thanks, you too. Bye,” Neil says before pressing his foot on the pedal. He takes in a glimpse of Kevin’s face from the corner of his eye. It’s full of soft wonder. Like this is the first time Neil has covered up for him.

Neil takes a road, which doesn’t lead home. He drives past the boundaries of the town with no clear destination in mind. Kevin’s shoulders start to relax after a few miles. The radio fills the car with mindless chatter and after a while some bubblegum bright notes join in.

Neil had never used to like driving when he was younger. His first experience with it had been during that pathetic escape attempt when Mary had ordered him behind the wheel even though his feet had barely reached the pedals. They hadn’t made it far enough. He had almost ran over a deer at some point. The second time had been a few years later. Lola had made him drive himself to the hospital after a particularly gruesome afternoon with her company. It had taken everything he had to focus on the road instead of the white spots swimming in his vision and the lingering taste of iron in his mouth. That hadn’t ended up being the only time either. And once Neil had become old enough to hold a license it had every now and then been his job as the heir to drive the Butcher to some remote area to—

Never mind that. The point is, driving hadn’t really had any positive connotations for him for a long while. It hadn’t been until he had driven away from Baltimore without any regard to road safety, with shaking hands and a six-year-old in the backseat, that he had finally seen the appeal. Nowadays driving can sometimes feel something like running. Heartbeats flowing in his ears and a sense of the good kind of breathlessness take over at those times. And that has always been what suits Neil the best.

Kevin keeps quiet, but it’s a different kind of silence than the one from before. The clouds are slowly retreating from the way of the sunshine caressing his hair through the windows.

They stop at a gas station eventually. Neil fills the tank and opens the passenger side door.

“Should we get some food?” Neil asks, leaning in. “It’s almost lunch time, I think.”

“Thanks,” Kevin says. His tiny smile tells it’s for more than the food. 

“Will you start crying if I buy us fast food?”

Kevin shrugs. “I’m _hungry_ ,” he says. The whine in his voice finally resembles something that a kid his age should sound like.

Neil drives them through the McDonald’s drive-in and orders Kevin a Happy Meal (“ _it fits you, Kev”_ ) just to see the unimpressed look that gives him. After they finish eating he commands Kevin to navigate the way back home. All in all Neil feels that it goes smoothly enough. ( _Turn left. No, left! Are you honestly an adult, dad?_ )

It’s not until they are back on their own sofa that Neil finally asks Kevin the question he had been avoiding the entire drive.

“What was it this morning? Was there any special reason you didn’t want to go to school today?”

Kevin avoids his eyes as he answers. “They don’t like me,” he says and twists the hem of his t-shirt.

Every time Neil hears those words, it makes something in his chest ache. That the other kids should look at Kevin and shy away from his brilliance, from his sharp tongue (the one thing that Neil knows for sure Kevin didn’t get from his mother), throbs like a fresh bruise.

“You know you shou—“

“It’s not that. I know they’re just jealous ‘cause I’m better. I don’t really like them that much either,” Kevin rushes to say. “It’s just that… That…”

“That?” Neil prompts gently.

“I had a dream,” Kevin whispers. A puzzle piece clicks with another in Neil’s mind. A dream. Of course it was.

“What was it about?”

Kevin swallows. “ _They_ came to the classroom. No one helped me and I’m pretty sure that no one would want to if it actually happened. And that’s why they took me away. And that's why I didn't want to go to school today.”

Neil doesn’t have to ask who _they_ are. The nightmare isn’t all Kevin’s. Sometimes it visits Neil as well.

“Of course someone would want to help you if they knew. And I would never let them take you,” Neil says, iron in his voice, fire in his spine.  

“You weren’t there,” Kevin says. There are tears slowly gathering to the corners of his eyes. Neil would like to say that he _will always be there_ , but he cannot. Neil is an excellent liar, but he also knows that sometimes it’s better to just stay quiet. He’s all too mortal to ever be reliable. Even his name won’t last forever. One way or another Neil Josten will disappear and someone else will stand in his place. It’s only a question of when. Neil hopes that he can keep this for a few years ( _forever_ ), but hoping has never helped him before. So no promises leave his lips.

“Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?” Neil asks instead.

“Yeah.”

Neil nods. “Right. Have you done your homework? You’ll probably get some extra tomorrow...”

They keep the conversation going without talking about anything important for the rest of the night. Kevin finds some exy highlights from YouTube and at one point they spend almost half an hour arguing about who is the best striker in the league. Neil suspects that Kevin might have a crush on Jeremy Knox. The amount of time he spends waxing poetry on his step sequences at least supports the hypothesis.

It all leads to them going to sleep past Kevin’s bedtime, when he’s already rubbing his eyes in a dazed manner. Not that Neil’s ever been all that strict with the bedtime anyway. He figures that an hour here or there can’t really do any permanent damage, and Kevin isn’t usually all that rebellious either way.

Kevin curls against his side, his hair a soft tickle against Neil’s bare arm, his warmth a tangible comfort. As he falls asleep Neil can’t help but wonder at how easily he seems to get comforted by Neil’s presence. By Neil, whose softness is not the same brand as Kevin’s is. No matter how soft Neil becomes, his corners still remain sharp and cutting. For all that his skin is full of marks, perhaps he’d never been meant to be touched. That’s how he feels, yet there Kevin is, his arm splayed across Neil’s stomach, mumbling in his sleep. One day Neil’s chest might just cave in from the pressure.

The balcony doors remain closed that night as well. Sleep doesn’t come easily. It never does. He is too aware of every sound in the apartment, especially after hearing about Kevin’s nightmare. Relaxing into the mattress is a fight.

Neil sees wisps of smoke floating past the window somewhere around one in the morning. It’s a seduction of a kind, he thinks. A summons. _Come here. Or are you scared?_

Neil ignores it by focusing on Kevin’s steady breaths. One by one they lull him into blessedly dreamless sleep.


	4. Let the Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil and Kevin go to see a match, and Andrew appears to have a different game in mind...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing about exy was an adventure... Also, Andrew is back, as promised. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. 
> 
> Oh and just as a warning, I'm not sure how soon I'll be able to get the next chapter up, because the next two/three weeks are going to be insanely busy for me because of Easter and university stuff. But I'll try not to leave you hanging for too long.

There is only one word to properly describe the Foxhole Court: _orange_. Everywhere Neil turns his head there are orange seats, orange banners and an alerting shade of orange face paint on the cheeks of the Vixens. Kevin looks around grinning like Christmas has arrived early. Neil on the other hand can feel an almost-headache hanging around his temples. The stadium is far from his preferred tones of gray. At least it is easy to blend in the crowd. No one will notice them from the midst of the colorful sea of exy fans. They are fine. Just fine.

Neil’s palms feel sweaty. He knows he should probably have said no when Kevin had turned his puppy dog eyes on him the day after his faked sick day. ( _The university’s team is going to have their first match really soon, it’s this weekend… Please dad, can we go? Please.)_ But Neil is weak and so here he is, in the stands next to his son, who has a bright orange scarf wrapped around his neck. Loud rock music is coming through the speakers situated around the stadium and Neil wonders if the players can hear it all the way down in the changing rooms.

The game is _Palmetto State Foxes_ against _Breckenridge Jackals_. Based on the matches that Neil and Kevin had watched last season, the Jackals are going to eat the Foxes alive and chew their prey well.

Neil feels almost bad for the home team. Palmetto State Foxes is a team that struggles from year to year with its unstable recruiting strategy. They had had a couple of good seasons around eight or nine years ago, he thinks. When Danielle Wilds had been their captain. She’s still an impressive player and likes to mention her old team in the interviews sometimes. Neil does not know what she was like around her university times though.

Neil had not had the time to follow university level exy around the time the Foxes had last been having a good season. He had been busy doing unsavory things to keep himself alive. Wishing to run while his feet were nailed to the ground by a young voice bound to that house.

“Dad, look, they’re coming out,” Kevin says cheerfully to his ear.

He’s right. The Foxes are marching on the court with their rackets held up high and the crowd around them goes wild. Neil breathes in slowly. There’s a hint of the old jealousy in his mouth, tasting like salt and iron. In some other world that could have been him. It almost had been. Though he would never have worn orange on the court, but pure black.

When Nathaniel Wesninski was eight, ten, fifteen he had wanted nothing more than to play with the Ravens. He had been doing well in his little league teams. Had even played with the Lord’s own son a couple of times. There had been whispers. Tentative promises. About him and about the future. Then, when he had turned sixteen they had broken his hand. They had broken it in five different places with Nathaniel screaming and begging for them not to touch his legs too. It had been a reminder of his place. Nathaniel was no royalty. His father had told him to bow to no one, yet had always kneeled in front of the Lord.

So Nathaniel had gotten through the pain and once again become an asset. Just one that had been aware of where in the food chain he had belonged.

Nowadays Neil is able to play again, even with his once broken hand. That doesn’t take away the pain and frustration, which cling to his skin like oil. That doesn’t offer him back the years of the life he could have had. They still tarnish his thoughts pitch black sometimes.  

The doors close behind the players and the captains prepare for the coin toss. It’s enough to drag Neil out of the dark corners of his mind. There can be no room for those thoughts in this brightly lit stadium, where all of his cells have longed to be.

Beside him Kevin leans eagerly out of his seat. His grin widens as the Foxes get the first serve. That itself is enough to drown out any shadows that the game might have carried. Neil settles back and lets himself be washed along the excited clamor of the crowd.

The first half is relatively even. The Foxes seem to have a rather reliable dealer and one of their strikers shows some promise, stealing them points from whatever gaps Breckenridge has in their defense. That doesn’t change the fact that the Jackals are a very physical team and the continuous body checks seem to be getting under the Foxes’ skins rather early on. By the end of the first half both teams have been carded once.

The number of penalties only grows during the second half. This annoys Kevin immensely. ( _Clean games are the most beautiful ones to watch,_ he complains. _Jeremy Knox didn’t get a single yellow card last season._ ) There’s even a moment when one of the home team’s backliners snaps and punches the striker she’s marking so hard that he staggers back to his knees. It takes two referees and four teammates to get them away from each other.

The Foxes end up losing the match, just like Neil had predicted. This makes the home crowd spew poison on their way out. Some of the students seem ready to attack the Jackals supporters, who, granted, haven’t been exactly quiet either. Neil makes sure to keep his hand tightly on Kevin’s shoulder as they make their way back to the car that he had parked some way from the stadium. The last thing they need is to get caught up in some sort of fight. That can stay on the court, between the players.

“Did you see their striker? He was _huge_. I mean he looked big on TV, but I didn’t think…” Kevin keeps up a steady chatter on their way home. He tells Neil to drive faster so that they can catch the after match interviews on the sports channel. Neil indulges him. Just a bit. He can’t claim that his own blood isn’t pumping faster than in a while. After he had gotten rid of his initial, gloomy thoughts, the game had sucked him in like always and he had been on his feet with the rest of the stadium whenever the goal had flashed with red.

There’s someone waiting for them as they get home. Andrew Minyard stands next to a black car that looks like it belongs to an action movie instead of their building’s miniscule parking lot. Neil had seen the car before (it’s not exactly a subtle choice of vehicle in their neighborhood), but he had never imagined Andrew was the one it belonged to. Then again, he supposes there’s something oddly fitting about the combination. Both remind him of reckless speed and power wrapped inside sleek black exteriors.

“Well look who it is,” Andrew says, false chipper. “The rabbit has decided to come out of its little hidey-hole.”

“Fuck off,” Neil mutters. He stops to dig his pockets for the apartment keys. “Kev, catch.”  
He then throws the keys to Kevin, who despite his surprised expression, catches them easily. “Are you…”

“Go inside. There are leftovers in the fridge, you should warm them up. Just leave some chicken for me too. I’ll be there soon.”

Kevin looks between them apprehensively, but goes first anyway. The orange scarf is still hanging around his shoulders. Neil follows it with his gaze as Kevin walks to the main entrance. Once Neil has made sure that his boy is safely inside the building, he turns back to Minyard. The man has a bland look on his face. His arms are crossed across his chest and he has found himself a lighter that he’s flicking on and off in his right hand.

Neil waits for him to say something, but he just keeps on playing with the lighter.

“You got a problem with something, Minyard?” Neil ends up asking. He doesn’t have patience for guessing games.

“Never said that I did,” comes the laconic answer. Flick, flick goes the flame.

“Never said you didn’t either.”

That earns him a look. “I seem to recall I’m not the one who’s been hiding for the last two weeks.”

Fair enough, though there’s no way Neil’s going to admit that any time soon.

“Tell me,” Andrew says, “is it just me you’re avoiding or is someone else at your heels, little rabbit?”

Neil feels a twist in his stomach at the question. It hits a bit too close to home, as Minyard isn’t really the only one he’s been afraid of bumping into recently. Instead of showing his emotions, Neil just shrugs.

“Why, you wanna feel special about yourself? I wasn’t aware that you’re my keeper.”

“So you _are_ running from something,” Andrew muses. He’s expression has shifted slightly, something like intrigue lighting up his eyes. “Can’t say I’m surprised. You do look like the type.”

Neil doesn’t much appreciate the change. “Well, I’ve really got to run away from you soon. As sad as it’s going to be to abandon this lovely conversation, I’ve got a ten-year-old alone in the kitchen.”

He sees no reason to mention that Kevin is the more capable cook out of them two.

“You look tired,” Andrew says. “You should come out tonight.”

“Is that so,” Neil says flatly. A midnight rendezvous with the man doesn’t feel any more tempting tonight than the night before. Especially not after an invite.

“I won’t bite if you do. _Promise_ ,” Andrew says with a hint of dark amusement. “I much prefer other weapons.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Neil has already turned to leave, when Andrew speaks once more. “I’ll see you later,” he says.

 _In your dreams_ , Neil thinks. He very pointedly does not run as he makes his way upstairs. Kevin has left the door unlocked for him so he can just walk in. ( _So could have anyone else_ , the paranoid little voice inside his head whispers. Neil tunes it out.)

“There’s still chicken in the fridge,” Kevin says as Neil walks into the kitchen. He has already started eating his portion of the leftovers. “I wasn’t sure how long you’d take.”

“Thanks,” Neil says and gets a plate for himself. It’s the last clean one. He really has to do the dishes after eating.

“So, that candy eater man…”

“Andrew,” Neil provides.

“Did he have something to say to you?” Kevin asks, fiddling idly with his fork.

“We were just talking,” Neil says.

“About what?”

Neil hesitates a bit— it makes Kevin’s face turn doubtful. “Nothing important. I guess he was worried.”

“Worried?”

And yeah, Neil’s not really sure how to wrap his head around the words either. The half-lie, half-truth.  

“Andrew said that I looked tired,” Neil says.

Kevin puts his fork down and leans back slightly. “Are you? Have you not been sleeping well again? Do you want me to come sleep with you, dad?”

He would. Neil knows that he’d only need to ask. He won’t. He shouldn’t need a scared kid to protect him from nightmares.

“I’m fine,” Neil says. “What did you think about the Foxes’ backline?”

Kevin grimaces. “Tolerable. Do you remember the fight in the beginning of the second half? Their captain really should have done something more…”

As always, exy safes the day.

When bedtime comes Kevin goes to sleep without any arguments. The day’s excitement has taken its toll. Neil allows himself a small smile as he goes to brush his teeth. They should go to the next home game as well. It might be the best way to make them both feel at home if they could start supporting the local team.

Soon Neil gets under the covers as well. He has to get up early the following day for his first shift in the hardware store. The interview had been successful and now he is going to have shifts five times a week. Therefore it would be good if he actually managed a good night’s sleep every once in a while. _Like tonight. Tonight would be great._

After lying down for half an hour Neil gets up. He walks to the bathroom and hides the ice in his eyes under forest green contacts. Next he grabs one of his gray hoodies before finally advancing to the balcony door.

Is it a smart move? No, most likely not. But Neil’s never been one to just back down from a challenge.

The door handle is cold against his palm. He presses it down quickly. There’s no time to act nervous. Andrew is already standing on his own balcony, this time without a cigarette. Neil wonders how long he would have stood there had Neil decided to stay inside once again.

“Hey,” Neil says. “Happy now?”

“Not yet.”

“Why am I here, Minyard?”

“I suppose you’re tired of running,” Andrew says.


End file.
